Good Books

"Yes?"
Hermione. "Where did you meet him?"
Spike (starting). "Who?"
Hermione. "Mr. Geoffrey. How did you happen to meet each other?"
Another pause, while Spike stands frowning in perplexed thought.
Spike. "Where did you say the cloth was?"
Hermione. "In the sideboard drawer. How long have you known
him?"
Spike (beginning to lay the cloth feverishly). "Oh, a goodish
time. Say, Hermy, he sure likes your name a whole lot!"
Hermione. "Oh!" (A very small pause.) "Likes my name, does he?"
Spike. "He sure does. He told me so."
Hermione. "Oh!" (Another small pause.) "Just what did he say,
boy dear?"
Spike. "He said it was Greek an' very beautiful, an' then I said
it kind of fitted you because you were aces up on the face an' figure
question."
A rush of petticoats, and enter Hermione, flushed and laughing.
"You dear boy!" she cried, "for that you shall be kissed!" which he was
forthwith; after which she turned to the mirror to smooth back a
shining tress of hair--that same rebellious curl that glistened above
her fine, black eyebrow.


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